4. Pearl #2
The first few years had been hard but rewarding. I loved being on my own, even if I didn't have money. The scholarship had helped but I still had to work to afford housing and food.
I knew it would be worth it, though, and I was so excited to start my fourth year, just itching to start my post-grad life.
And then it happened.
Who's to say it won’t happen again?
My finger hovered over the purchase button. I was scared that my life would come crashing down again and there was nothing I could do about it.
But I wasn’t the poor student who had no connections, no place of her own, and who was alone in the world. She had been easy to take advantage of.
This time, I had money. I wasn’t the same person I’d been.
All thanks to Emerson.
My high school bully who seemed to hate me back then as much as she wanted me now. Who had come back into my life unexpectedly. And while she could have brought me more misery, she’d brought me… hope. And orgasms.
Can I even call her a bully anymore?
Was she even one to begin with? Did I misread her?
At that, her words came back to haunt me. You’re the furthest thing from my type there is, she’d told me, and that had cut deep. All her words back then did. And I wasn’t even sure what I’d done for her to be that angry at me.
I shook my head. I couldn’t go back there now.
Fuck it.
I checked out and didn't even think twice as I continued to the payment section. Even if it didn't work out, I had enough money to take these courses again and again if I needed to. I could easily reenroll.
Someone slid into the chair across from me.
“Excuse me, this chair isn’t—“
The words died on my tongue as soon as I saw who it was. Think of the goddamned devil and she shall appear.
Emerson was sitting in front of me in all her glory. Instead of the formal suit that she had worn to the club, she was wearing a casual thin linen button-up and dark pants.
“Cat got your tongue?” she asked with a sly smirk.
“Emerson, what are you—”
“You know, they called your name like five times already,” she said and handed me a cup with my name on it. “White chocolate mocha with cinnamon, an extra shot of espresso, and whipped cream. I thought only teenagers drank that stuff.”
I puffed up and grabbed the drink from her with a frown.
“Did you just come here to insult me, or are you stalking me now? Seems a bit desperate even for you,” I shot back. As soon as I realized what I said, my mouth dropped in shock, and I was sure she was going to give me a verbal lashing for it.
Except she didn’t. She merely shrugged before replying, “I came to give you your reward like I promised. But even if I had come to insult you or was stalking you, I have the feeling you would like that.”
I instantly blushed, and she started laughing. An unrestrained laugh that had my insides turning.
I had never seen her this free. It did things to me that I didn't want to admit.
I also didn’t want to agree with her statement.
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“I’m not. You flattered me enough last night when you were begging for my—”
I grabbed her thigh to stop her.
“You know, we need to have some rules about this. Like, not in public.”
She raised a brow at me, her smirk in full force.
“Only in private, then? Like over the phone? Or can we move on to a more face-to-face experience?”
I could feel the heat shooting up my neck and face.
“It’d be embarrassing if anyone overheard you.”
The smirk was gone, her face went dark, and she lowered her voice to a whisper.
“You know what, Meadows? I don’t think you’re embarrassed at all.
I think you like it. You liked the way I talked to you at the restaurant.
You could have hung up when I called you last night, but you didn’t.
You like to be told what to do. Humiliated.
Degraded. You like being my slut. You’re still trying to convince yourself that it's wrong and dirty, but I see you, Pearl. I have always seen you.”
Suddenly, I was looking at Emerson in a new light. Not the school bully who used to prowl the halls looking for me, but someone entirely different. She had grown in the years we’d been apart. She was confident, and she had good reason to be.
Images of her blood-covered face, pain twisting her expression, hit me hard. She was a far cry from that too. Those painful memories were in the past, and part of me was glad to see she hadn’t been consumed by them.
“What if I had hung up on you? Or told you I did have a guest?”
I had no idea where that had come from. All I knew was that I couldn’t let her have the last word. Because she was right.
“I would have driven to your house, probably in a lot less than ten minutes, and broken down the fucking door so I could punish you for either of those things. And you would have liked it.”
Damn. There go my panties.
“You say you see me, but somehow I'm starting to realize I may not know a single thing about you.”
Her eyes widened and she leaned back. For the first time since I'd known Emerson, I seemed to have rendered her speechless.
It gave me a burst of confidence—the same confidence that had kept me talking to her on the phone.
I leaned forward.
“So what about that reward? Another kiss?”
“Is that what you want?” she hissed.
I raised my brow at her and tilted my head to the side.
“Is there something else on the table?”
Anger crossed her face. I knew it was anger this time, as I’d seen it on her face plenty of times. Suddenly, she pushed her chair back so hard it squeaked against the flooring, and half a second later, she was on me.
Her hand fisted my hair as her lips took mine. I had to hold onto my coffee so I wouldn’t drop it. She kissed me like she did that night in the club. Possessive. Like an animal.
It breathed life into me. It had heat expanding from my belly to everywhere else in my body.
And even though we were in a crowded coffee shop, I kissed her back. I kissed her back with everything I had just in case this would be my last time kissing Emerson Blackwell.
I was breathing heavily. Her eyes were hooded, and there was a heat in them I didn't expect.
“Next time, ask for more.”
“Next—”
Without warning, she turned and walked off, leaving me speechless. It took me a few moments to realize I was still in a crowded coffee shop and I needed to pull myself together quickly.
I reached for my laptop and scanned my email for confirmation of my enrollment. And then I couldn't conceal my gasp.
I thought I would be using the money Emerson had paid for me for my classes. But as it turned out, I wouldn't need to do that because I had been offered a scholarship for the second time in my life.
Maybe the universe is telling me this is the right thing to do.
Closing my laptop, I allowed myself to soak in the moment and drink my coffee when I noticed something written on my coffee cup. I pulled it away to look at it.
When you're ready to take me up on my offer, call me. You know the number.
Emerson. Her handwriting hadn’t changed since high school.
I took a sip of my overly sweet drink with shaky hands.
So much for having the last word.